"Oh, no!" May cried; "you wouldn't say that if you knew how frightened I was!"
"That made it all the pluckier of you to keep your head and act as you did. The bull's safe enough where he is, and by and by when he's quieted down we shan't have any difficulty in head-roping him and taking him home. I am more than sorry he should have given you all such a fright, and very grateful to you, missie, for what you've done. I hope you feel better now?"
May glanced at Farmer Bond's concerned countenance and tried to smile.
"Yes, thank you," she answered, but her voice sounded faint and tremulous.
"And you, sir?" the farmer asked, turning to Donald, who suddenly flushed crimson, "you are all of a shake—"
"I fell and twisted my injured knee," interposed Donald hastily; "that's why I was obliged to hide in the ditch."
"Oh, Donald," cried May, "have you hurt your knee badly? I'm afraid you have! Then you ought not to try to walk home!"
"Oh, as to that, my man and I will take him home," said Farmer Bond; "we'll cross arms and clasp hands, and so make a seat for him to ride on."
Thus was Donald conveyed to the Glen. He was in a good deal of pain, but Dr. Farrant, who was immediately sent for, said if he rested his knee a few days it would be as well as it was before. The boy was greatly relieved to hear that, for he was most anxious that nothing should happen to prevent his return to school.
During the next few days he followed the doctor's orders and rested his knee, May waiting on him with unselfish attention. Many times she caught his gaze fixed on her thoughtfully, and on one of these occasions she asked—